


XIVWrite2020: Hum Along

by Bix



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Tumblr: FFXIVwrite2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:47:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 4,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26270626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bix/pseuds/Bix
Summary: Prompts from the write challenge, rating and tags to be added. Multiple/different WoL
Relationships: Minfilia Warde/Warrior of Light, Warrior of Light/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 5





	1. Crux (Tabur)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tabur and Thancred have a conversation about what matters

It had unsettled people, at least a little, how little the blue skinned xaela seemed to care about the delicacies of politics and situations. It wasn't that he didn't listen, or didn't follow along with who was vying for what power. He didn't lack subtlety when dealing with people like some, when pressed he was fairly polite if gently amused about his disinterest though it still hung there.

It left questions in the air. Ones that needed at least a few answers.

“So Tabur....why the Flames?” Thancred asked, finally tracking down the erstwhile member of their little group. “Not that I disagree necessarily, you just didn't hesitate about it.” 

“Rhauban’s the least stupid.” Came the easy response, half yawned as the younger man cracked open an eye from where he lay on a sun drenched low wall. “I mean, Ul’dah’s the second stupidest place out here but he's the least stupid of the khans.”

That hadn't been what Thancred expected as an answer. He'd expected something about the strength of the gladiators or a preference for the weather of Thanalan.

“Care to explain that one? I wasn't aware you though us stupid.”

“ _ You're  _ not, pretty sure you get it.” Tabur replied patiently, shifting to sit up. “Just….most of Eorzia is. You've got your priorities all backwards sometimes, and you think we're the barbaric ones. You're all so willing to kill folks for things you think are important. Killings easy, it doesn't mean anything to be willing to kill for whatever stupidity you're after. Being willing to die for it though? That's where things start to matter. Rhauban knows where the difference there is even if he's surrounded by people who don't, he's a good khan.”

That was oddly insightful, and shed a bit of light on to why the man always seemed amused by the bickering and posturing of the different factions vying for their attention. It was a rather fundamental difference in personal philosophy about what what was or wasn't negotiable, if it wasn't worth rather literally dying for then it was negotiable.

Thancred wondered, briefly, what sort of thing would matter enough for Tabur to be willing to die to defend.

“Anyroad, tell Minfilia I'm ready to go whenever she is. We were going to head up to Horizon to look at good rocks and maybe check out the bottom of the gorge a bit.” Tabur beamed, tail flicking behind him.


	2. Sway (Tabur)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tabur can be awful convincing when he wants to be.

“That can wait for tomorrow.” Tabur's voice was soft and insistent from his spot on the wall of the office. He'd been there for nearly a bell, waiting as members of the scions bustled to and from Minfilia’s desk. Urianger had dropped off a pile of books and papers, leaving again with a polite nod.

“I'd rather get it out of the way now… the reports aren't looking good out of Thanalan and there's-” she sighed, picking up the report and already skimming it.

“It'll still be just as it is now when the sun rises again.” He pointed out, pushing off from the wall and stepping lightly towards the desk to sit on the edge of it. “Besides, aren't you the one always telling everyone to take a break?”

Minfilia frowned at that, huffing lightly as his fingers reached to gently brush her bangs back to the side they belonged. “What if something happens and I'm needed here?”

That got a low laugh, Tabur's head tilting in his usual gesture of amusement. “We have linkpearls, and Tataru can handle things for a few hours. Let me be in charge for a little yeah?”

There was an insistent warmth to his tone, and the brush of his thumb over her cheek was a very good argument for indulging.

“Why are you so good at swaying me from a course?” She laughed, setting the report aside.

“Because, you do the same to me.”


	3. Muster (Iolaire)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new dragoon joins the ranks.

There was a quiet titter of the nobleladies through Ishgard, the induction of new Dragoons was always a cause for gathering and speculating on marital prospects for either themselves or their family members. It was also a chance to see the entire group of the finest Ishgardian warriors in their armor outside of a battlefield or (Halone Forbid) a funeral for the Archbisiop or member of the Heaven's Ward.

The variations in color of their armor was also cause for gossip, few knew the forging methods of the drachen mail but variations in color happend with some frequency. Usually variations on blues and purples, but there'd been a few copper and white sets that emerged as well as varying shades of greys. Some of the old superstitious sort were of the opinion that the color was a form of divination, but argumets abounded as to what each fortold.

All Odrienne knew, or cared about, was that her new husband looked especially handsomely fierce in the near-silver his had turned out.

Sir Iolaire Argentum the Silver Eagle rose from his kneel with his title, stepping to join his armored brothers.

An alarm rose in that moment, the Dragoons heads turning as a unit towards the north. Silence hung in the air for a moment before the Archbishop nodded.

"Go, fight well."

It was a moment of unadulterated pride as the entire Dragoon force took to the rooftops and those who'd assebmed to watch the knighting cheered.

Iolaire grinned beneath his helm, the thrum of some unknown song mirroring the quickening pulse in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was weird to get out, but there it is.


	4. Cinch (Tabur)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sword is heavy, other things even heavier.

The sword was heavy, and Tabur's grip had to tighten from what he had grown used to with his staff.

It was satisfying though, bringing the great blade to bear against those who deserved it. Those who looked to break the fragile bubbles of hope those of the Brume could only barely create much of the time. Those who wasted *time* that wasn't even theirs. It felt so good to tighten his grip on something heavy and wield it in battle.

The sword was heavy, and Tabur's grip didn't waver as he squared off against yet another enemy in the endless strings of fighting that everything had become.

It was, he thought at times, something his mother might finally be proud of him for doing. Finally a proper warrior. Finally what she'd wanted him to be back before he'd found how well a staff fit in his hand and the spirits of the steppe whispered their worries and wants in his horns.

The sword was heavy, but Tabur's grip on it was steadier these days.

He couldn't tighten the grip he had on the shards of his heart, but the darkness could at least give it shelter.

Some hopes were too fragile to even look at let alone clutch to his chest as he once did to blonde hair and soft skin in the moonlight.

Some things were much heavier than swords.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insert evil cackling here.


	5. Matter of Fact (Tabur)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nobody had believed the fact until they saw proof.

"You...weren't lying." Lyse said, watching a raen walk through the market of Kugane while Tabur browsed a stand of cosmetics.

"Nope. Why would I lie about it?" He replied, squinting at the color of some sort of nail varnish. He'd changed the color he wore once they'd reached Othard, no longer the deep teal that looked good on him but instead a vibrant purple.

"I thought it was a joke! I mean you're... you." Lyse huffed, "You make jokes about everything."

"Mn. Not everything, especially not _that_. Though it's a little funny that none of you believed me."

Another few raen walked by, guards of some sort and clearly friends. Lyse just frowned, it was a hard concept to wrap her head around. "It's just... they're so... how did I never notice?!"

"Not like there's many of us out in Eorzia, and you weren't with us in Ishgard. Pretty sure it was a little more obvious there." He shrugged, settling on a few colors before settling the price.

"Fair, but... wait is Urianger...?"

"Yeah, actually. By a little." Tabur half smiled, "Want to help me eat my weight in meat pies, there's a Kha vendor selling them down the way."

Nobody had believed Tabur when he'd said he was _short_ , even if it was now blatantly a statement of truth having seen other auri men.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tabur is, in fact, minimum height and it's hilarious.


	6. Nonagenarian (Iolaire, technically)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iolaire's grandmother is not a stupid woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for allusion to spousal abuse and murder of said spouse.
> 
> Granny Orraux does not take any fucks.

Phiollene Orraux was not a stupid woman. She hadn't survived climbing Isghard’s politics just because she was _pretty_. She hadn't survived her husband by being meek either, though Lord Orraux hadn't survived her.

Not that anyone had batted a single eyelash at his passing, the man hadn't been well liked. Lady Orraux, poor young widowed thing, on the other hand knew how to play the game and dance the steps of the higher houses.

Phiollene remembered quite clearly how handsome the then-new Archbishop had been, knew that it would cause a _misfortune_ for some girl. She had her own children's marriages to see to though, and things would have to be negotiated carefully.

She made sure her daughters knew how to hide a dagger in their skirts or a longer blade in their bodice. While she'd seen that they had courted those they had affection for, she wasn't a stupid woman. Even if her eldest’s husband had happily taken the Orraux name and doted on her well past the wedding day, there was always sense in having a weapon handy.

Phiollene hadn't had a child cling so to her skirts since her own, but her grandson with his dark hair and silver eyes had gravitated towards her as his number of siblings grew (and grew, the family habit of adoption was well and healthy after all).

She would arm Iolaire as well as she had herself and her daughters. He would need all the strength in his heart to fight the storm that brewed on the horizons of his fate.

Phiollene was not a stupid woman, she hadn't lived to near a century as the matriarch of the sprawling House Orraux by being a fool.

She was, however, fully aware of how much of an idiot her grandson could be when his heart got involved. 

“He's your idiot now, Brigid. Let me show you how to hide a dagger properly in that gown, he's going to need you to know such things.” She said, setting aside the sword-cane and going to her newest granddaughter. “You'll be bringing your brothers for Starlight this year, and their spouses. I'm not getting any younger and I want to meet my little eagle’s flock.”


	7. Clamor (Iolaire)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iolaire has a request for Raubahn, because the echo is not gentle.

Iolaire hung back, catching Raubahn’s eye and giving a tilt of his head towards a longer path through Ala Mhigo. The elezen’s hair had begun to properly grow out and the black and tan leather armor he'd started wearing at some point during his travels in Othard suited him, though the unusually grim edge to his usual seriousness was concerning. It was rarely a good sign when either Warrior of Light looked grim.

Best to see what it was about.

“General.” Iolaire nodded, letting the other man decide which side of him to walk on as they turned down the street. “I have a request.”

“One you didn't want to bring before the others.” Raubahn replied, curious as to why he'd be the one asked as opposed to any of the others.

“The reasoning behind it is...not something well known, and explanation is rather needed.” Was the somewhat reluctant reply, “I would request that the guards on Fordola are changed, at least for the night shift.”

“Why?” 

It took Iolaire a moment, frown on his face. “It's… torture, what having Ala Mhigans guard her does. Lyse never saw, and most of the others don't have as clear an Echo. It hurts, General. Fordola’s may not be a gift of the crystal, but considering the strength of it mirrors mine? It's likely it does the same to her, and she's even less control over it than myself.”

“...you're saying that talent of yours is…”

A nod, “Helpful though it may be, it is hardly pleasant even when the memories and events seen during it are. Whatever that person felt, it's… not like watching a stage. You live it, and it burns in to your bones. All the pain, all the fear and anger and sorrow. I've collapsed from it, faster than Zenos.” He turned his gaze to Raubahn, and there's such a sadness there. “And Fordola is locked in a room, having it forced on her every time a guard with any emotion about her so much as thinks of who they're on the other side of the room from. It's. Torture. Having those who hate her guard her.”

“It can't be that bad.” 

“Imagine a crowd on a full night at the arena, screaming how much of a monster you are and every time your opponent strikes you’re back with Teledji taunting you at the banquet. At least make what she's forced to relive less personal. Please.”

Raubahn sighed, “I'll...see that somethings done, there's Flames who've never set foot here until now. I have to ask though… how do you deal with it, if it's like that?”

Iolaire smiled, “Twenty years of experience, and I'm… not alone afterwards.”


	8. Lush (Iolaire)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iolaire is not a fan of Raincatcher Gulley, and it's not because of cheese.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With special guest appearance by Brigid, before they got together.

“I'm staying here.” Ioliare said firmly, arms crossing over his chest as the others began making their way out of Wineport and towards Raincatcher. “There shouldn't be anything too terrible if all you're after is talking to some recluse, and I could use the chance to sit.”

“More like lookin’ t’have a drink an’ flirt with the servin’ lasses.” Came the amused reply from the red haired woman he'd been along to help.

“Hardly, they're… not my type. I simply understand why a primal of dry stone in an area like this would exist, the atmosphere… disagrees with me to a degree.” He admitted, sighing.

Raincatcher may have been a beautiful area, full of life and greenery but the mounting humidity in the air that never truly left the valley made it hard to breathe for the older elezen. Wet heat was worse than dry any day, and his healers robes weren't exactly comfortable for traipsing through a rainforest.


	9. Avail (Tabur)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eorzian clothing is silly, Tabur just wants to look good for this banquet, and Momodi is a saint.

Tabur had needed help, in the end, to get everything on just right. It had come from Momodi of all people, the proprietress of the Quicksand taking one look at his attempt to get a tie and the belts on his trousers on correctly and promptly pushed him back in to the inn room.

“If you're going to ask Minfilia to properly court each other, you really need to not look like you got dragged out of bed by the tail.” She’d tutted, fussing with redoing his tie. “Asking her at the banquet is _very_ romantic though, and this vest? You'd best be having a front row seat for me at the wedding!”

Tabur blushed, “Wedding. Uh… I haven't actually… I'm not used to this kind of thing.” He admitted, tail flicking behind him nervously.

Momodi sighed, patting his tie once she'd pinned it in place on his shirt. “Nothing's going to go wrong tonight, Tabur. Nobody would be crass, or foolish enough to cause problems with the Scions, Grand Company leaders and _you_ there. Just have a good time, 

It had to go right, after so much going wrong lately… it just had to.


	10. Tooth and Nail (Tabur)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tabur knows how to do these things, and Ryne had to ask someone who knew.

“Can you show me how to do that?” Ryne asked, watching as Tabur finished doing his eyeliner. “And… maybe how to do colors on my nails too?”

He tilted his head in his usual gesture of acknowledging consideration, finishing off the teal color. “...yeah, but we’ll have to get you at least a little of you own stuff for it. Nail paint’s fine to share but not the rest.” He nodded, tail flicking behind him thoughtfully as he looked at her. “Got a color in mind?”

He'd done Minfilia’s nails a few times a lifetime ago, smiling as she picked out the same color he usually wore himself. Kahkol tribe purple, which he'd raged and grieved at seeing the match of used by Eulmore.

“Uhm…. blue! Like the sky!” Ryne beamed, “Or maybe a darker one, I saw these little tiny sparkles that looked like stars that could go on there too?”

Tabur smiled, “Let's start with the blue, it's going to be complicated enough getting used to putting a stick near your eye. Just the basics to start, I'm hoping you know how to braid already otherwise I'm gonna get Thancred for you to practice on and little pink bows to tie them off for not teaching you himself.”

“Uhm…. How about red for the bows?” She grimmaced before giggling, “Do you think Y’shtola would join us?”

“Let's go ask, we can make a whole day of it. Nhamaa knows she could use a treat too.” Tabur nodded, gently nudging her shoulder with his forearm.

It wasn't always easy, but Tabur couldn't help but be willing to help Ryne.


	11. Part (Ioliare)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dork loves his wife.

Iolaire bowed as he kissed Brigid’s knuckles, a gently teasing smile in the corners of his eyes. “Farewell, my heart. Fight well.” 

Leaving to go separate ways was always hard, and the roll of her eyes was always entertaining when he put on a bit of the lordly manners.


	12. Ache (Tabur)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tabur is not okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is where we kinda earn the warning, Minfilia may not be technically dead but... uuuhhhhh. Yeah.

Silence hung as the group of them returned from whatever plane of existence hydalen existed on, the warriors of darkness sent off to their world with Minfilia. It shattered as Tabur whirled on Urianger with a snarl, fist connecting solidly with the taller man’s face.

“ **I didn't even get to say goodbye.** ” the xaela ground out. “What gave you the right to- just because you didn't get to keep Moenbryda, nobody else gets their love back either? Is that it? You don't deserve forgiveness.”

With that he stalked off a few feet before teleporting away.

“Tabur and Minfilia were….?” Alphinaud blinked, Thancred letting go of the back of Alisae’s shirt now that their hydalen blessed had disappeared. She'd been about to leap at the man for turning on the elezen man.

“You kind of deserved that, Urianger.” He sighed.

\-----

Tabur appeared at Zenith, finding a wall and sinking against it with a broken sound. There'd been a hope, growing in strength as the other scions had returned to them and they'd found Minfilia. He'd thought, for a breathless moment, that having the Warriors and their crystals collected had meant she'd be able to come back.

Not be traded off without time for him to say everything he'd needed.

Now there was just a reopened wound and a hollow ache.

Hraelsvanger joined in the song, echoing voice matching the weeping. It reminded him of another's so many many years ago, a grief that had begun a war.


	13. Lucubration (Iolaire)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ioliare would rather learn astrology.

Iolaire had found a measure of peace within the high, endless stacks of the Great Library. It reminded him of his days within the Scholasticate, studying the scriptures of Halone back before… everything.

He was looking better than he had when the group of battlefield pickers had found him and dragged him to the Sharlayan colony (closer than Falcon’s Nest had been, with better healers.) mostly dead. The nearly healed wound on his face would scar, and his knee would likely never fully recover either, but he had no desire to pick up a spear again. It hadn't saved anyone.

Magic had, the curious differences between the Sharlayan and Ishgardian schools of astrologians had meant his survival, and he'd always liked stargazing.

“It will take years to master.” The instructor said, cautious.

“I've no desire or reason to go back to Ishgard.” He started blandly, “I would rather study than return to war.”

Maybe it would also help find a cure for the splitting headaches and strange voice he heard whispering when the city fell silent.

He didn't want to feel.

Thinking was something he did far better anyway.

“Very well, here are the beginning books of explanations and a deck of cards to familiarize yourself with.”


	14. Panglossian (Tabur)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tabur like hanging out with the moogles.

It really wasn't terribly hard to find Tabur, once someone figured out the man's motivations. The trick was usually in getting there because he had a terrible habit of ending up in difficult places to get to.

Some places were easier than others, and some were supposed to be inaccessible to nearly everyone. So it was that the Seedseer was both perfectly understanding and utterly baffled at finding the blue skinned xaela happily chatting away in the middle of the twelveswood moogle village. 

“I… did not think you knew to find this place.” She said carefully, once there was a lull in conversation. Tabur had always seemed a bit judgemental of the conjurors, dismissive of their relationship with the elementals.

“Wasn’t hard to find, I can hear the woods just fine. I love these guys, best folks to get some perspective around.” He shrugged, “Hard to be anything but optimistic here.”


	15. Song (Tabur, free day)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tabur can hear a song sometimes.

Tabur tugged at the storyteller’s robe, bright green eyes wide and a worry on his mouth. He was still young, still _small_. “Elder? I have a _question_.”

The older xaela smiled, “Of course Little Brother, you’re always welcome to ask them.” The boy had always had such interesting ones compared to the usual those his age had, few about hunting or fighting. Many about the world beyond where the tribe traveled, and still more about the people in those lands.

“I… are there stories about people who can hear the spirits? Not like the Mol, but… the wind and the stones and the warmth of Azim above, are there stories about hearing them _sing_?”

Ah. That would explain a great deal of how easily distracted the young man had been of late while out tending dzo or gathering for the tribe. He’d shown a bit of a talent for magic already, something the boy’s mother hadn’t been especially thrilled by. Then again, all mothers of the tribe wanted their sons to be warriors who battled with their brothers for standing among the tribe. Not that there was shame in bending the elements to one’s will, to healing, but it was not usually something a mother wanted for their son.

“There are, though most can only hear a whisper of it.” he nodded, settling on a stool by the fire. “There are not many who can hear the song, and none among our Brothers and Sisters have heard it in many generations.”

“Why not? It’s so pretty! The grass is always giggling and trying to tickle the wind!” Tabur exclaimed, plopping down at the storyteller’s feet.”And the wind’s always telling stories! Like you, Elder! I think you’d be friends if you could hear each other… oh! What if I told your stories to it? And then I could tell you the stories it brought over from wherever it came from? It’d be like when we have to translate for other tribes sometimes at meetings for trade!”

“You’d have to learn to speak the language of the wind first, Little Brother, and that would take a lot of listening and you’d have to find someone to teach you.” the storyteller laughed. “But… I’d like that.”

Tabur nodded, beaming, “I’ll find a teacher! Even if I have to walk to all the different tribes to find one, and then… then I’ll come back!”

“You will always have a home here, and even if you travel very far away… you will always be a brother.” 

The storyteller smiled, reaching to pat the younger man’s shoulder. There was a soft hum of a different song in his own mind, a hazy vision of a man with a grin and a staff in his hand as he all but danced with wind and stone at his fingertips. He had the same skin as Tabur, though the color he wore wasn’t the yellow-gold of the present but the bold purple-pink of the Kahkol.

“Of course, we’re family, all of us.” Tabur nodded, standing. “I...should go practice like mother thinks I am…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. Tabur is pretty much a Steppes Variant White Mage, if he'd been born hyur he might have ended up a padjal but nope his horns grow sideways anyway.
> 
> Yeah. That's about all here.


	16. NSFW: Where the Heart Is (Iolaire)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (NSFW) Iolaire and Brigid steal a morning.

It was a quiet morning, the sort that took forever and an instant to turn to daytime proper. Warm sunlight drenched the bed, turning Brigid’s hair to liquid fire and Iolaire’s skin an even warmer tone as they met in a gentle familiar shift. There was no hurry to it, no clawing rush of their usual passion. Too many demands constantly pulling them hither and yon to have too many lazy mornings.

They took them when they could, heart and pulse in contented tangle.

Iolaire paused, chuckling in to her shoulder as the sound coming down the hall got louder. 

It had taken years, an entire lifetime of some, to find this together. _Home_ , wrapped around each other in the sunlight. Some interruptions were far easier to deal with than the many many battles and demands of their allies.

“Seems we’re needed by the little feet…”


End file.
